tides
by nightfall26
Summary: zuko x katara; he'd been her ocean, and he'd swallowed her whole.
1. swelling tides

**title: **_tides; "the rise & fall of sea levels, the push & pull of two opposing forces". _

**setting: **_six years after the end of the war. _

**disclaimer:**_ I own nothing. _** _  
_**

**author's notes: **_review pretty please?_

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It was summer when the tides came in.

Katara was returning to the Fire Nation for the first time in several years. Balancing herself on the bow of the Water Tribe ship, she floated her hands by her sides as she propelled the currents along, helping the crew where she could. She had no knowledge of the riggings or the ropes, so she kept out of the way of the Fire Nation crewmembers that swore like dogs and spat on the decks. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably like the surface of the tumultuous waves beneath her, reminding the girl she hadn't eaten anything yet that day.

_La, I'm stupid for doing this. _

She was twenty years old. Twenty years old and more powerful then she'd been in her entire life, she thought. Or perhaps just more stoic. Perhaps just tougher, like seal jerky as opposed to the tender meats of the fish that her friends had preferred, such a long, long time ago. Her hair brushed the curve of her hip, now, flying free in the wind, whipping her cheeks, catching in her mouth occasionally when she wasn't paying attention. She'd abandoned her hair loopies for intricate, thin braids that kept the wisps of baby hairs that framed her face from falling into her eyes.

Her arms were muscular from fishing with spears and hunting with her brother, running with the animals and practicing her bending with Master Pakku when he visited her grandmother. Constant afternoons outside had tanned her considerably, as well, and she'd decorated herself with silver jewelry in hopes to appear more like a Chief's daughter.

The swelling of the waves were rippling with the glow of the afternoon sun, casting bits of warmth onto her cheeks that she tried to ignore. She hated being reminded of warmth. That was one of the reasons she'd stayed so diligently in her home Nation, where the sun barely made appearances and she was almost always cold.

The cold was better than the warmth that reminded her of a friendship lost ages ago, of golden-yellow eyes that made her feel more at home than anything else in the world.

She'd been dodging proposals from the boys in her tribe for almost six months now, one for each month she had been a single woman. Some were jokes; from mere _boys _who wanted to throw it in her face that the Avatar had left her to rot.

_Single. _It wasn't her favorite word, even now, but it was a necessary one.

A necessary evil that had permeated every area of her life, leaving her no choice but to build a hut away from her tribe and live out her life quietly, teaching small waterbending classes to children whose parents would allow her near them.

Being alone was such a negative phrase with a dark connotation; as if living by yourself and making the most out of a bad situation made you less of a human being. Some didn't even consider her a true woman, or a full part of the tribe anymore, insults which her father fought against adamantly.

She could practically smell the Fire Nation from where she stood, squinting until she could make out the line of land just ahead. The last time she'd seen her old friend, it had been in the months following the end of the war. She'd walked along the beach with him, letting the white foam of the waves tickle her toes as she teased him. They'd been friends. Such good friends. His eyes had reflected the pain in hers, and they'd talked for hours about the losses they'd struggled with for a lifetime. But when Mai had made pointed remarks about how much time the pair was spending together, Zuko cut her off.

Toph had called him whipped. Katara had just pressed her lips together firmly and tried not to cry when he ignored her in the halls at the time. Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew what he was doing was just for the good of his relationship with his future Fire Lady. Mai was important to him, and he'd known Katara for a much shorter time, logically speaking.

Somehow, though, it felt like Mai didn't know him at all. Katara had been there when he'd lamented over his honor, screaming to the sky that he felt more alone among his own people than ever before.

_Traitor, _they'd called him, taunting him in the streets as he broke himself for people that didn't even want his help. Mai didn't see _that _Zuko. She only saw the brooding, mystical boy with the dark hair who couldn't control his temper. She probably liked the danger of the illusion rather than the realism of the situation.

Which was one reason why Katara couldn't understand why Zuko had cut off their friendship, their absolute lifeblood, for a girl that only made snide, backhanded remarks and passive-aggressive compliments that never turned out right.

She exploded on him one night, freezing him in a block of ice while she shouted at him. It wasn't fair, she'd cried, he was supposed to be her friend. The soon-to-be Fire Lord had only stared at her balefully, with golden eyes bigger than the full moon. They'd pulled her in, like the tides, begging her to understand, to see the struggles he was faced with.

She should have realized then that he'd been forced to choose between her and the woman the entire court wanted him to marry. It was his heart versus societal norms, and he had to please his people _somehow._ Being radical just wouldn't suit him then.

In hindsight, she knew that it had just bothered her that he hadn't picked her for his own.

She'd left with Aang a few days later. Half of her was convinced that she was Aang's 'forever girl', that she was meant to be with him and that they'd have a beautiful slice of eternity together. He'd chatted on and on about building a family, a home, about living in a house that he would build for them and living completely off the land. She'd smiled at him and agreed, like a good woman should.

But the other half of her reminded her that maybe she was only leaving with the bald monk because of the face Zuko had made when he'd seen her walking away. She hadn't even said goodbye.

She'd narrowed her eyes at him, her arms tucked under her breasts firmly with her lips pursed as Aang clapped the Fire Lord on the back and wished him well. When Zuko had moved to hug her goodbye, she turned away.

It wasn't that she'd wanted anything from him in particular, at the time, it was just that a shard of her soul yearned for him in a way that she didn't understand. He'd always owned a piece of her, in some strange way.

It was only now that she could begin to understand.

Maybe it was the talks that went on into the night until the first rays of sunlight kissed the horizon line. Maybe it was the way he'd reached out a hand to her when she strongly refused help, and he stubbornly gave it to her anyways. Maybe it was the warmth in his sunshine-flecked eyes, or the gentleness in his heart that curved his lips into a soft smile, or the smoothness of his words when they talked about heavy memories in the darkness of early morning.

Or maybe it was the fire inside of him. The spark, the fierceness that Aang had never possessed. Maybe it was how they liked to argue, to scream at each other until they deemed the argument pointless and dissolved into laughter. That was just how they worked. He would launch himself towards her, his voice raspy from yelling as his hands grabbed at her hips and pulled her into a fierce hug to make up for the silly fight they'd had. She remembered how her arms had hooked around the back of his neck and occasionally her fingers would twine around his, claiming a piece of him in some way, her nails pulling at the cloth of his clothes as she feebly hoped he'd never leave her.

They were utter opposites, and yet, so unbearably similar.

She still had night terrors. When she'd lived in the Fire Nation, her room had been near the royal chambers, and when she screamed her throat raw and her cheeks were crusted with tears, he'd be there. She'd whisper his name in the darkness of early morning and thanked Tui and La for him. _Zuko._

He'd been her ocean, and he'd swallowed her whole.

Sometimes, she'd hear him crying out in his sleep. Mai wasn't allowed to enter his bedchambers at night due to tradition, so Katara would throw open his door and scramble onto his bed, pinning his flailing limbs down to the satin sheets as she begged him to return to the waking world- to return to _her._

She saw herself in him, just as he saw himself in her.

Would he care that Aang had walked out on her and never come back? Or would he jeer at her, too, like the rest of the world, and call her tainted? Unworthy of a husband?

Her home had been colder than she'd bargained for when she'd returned, the loneliness chewing at her soul like frostbite. Especially after Aang had left.

A part of her was preparing for the Fire Lord to have already put a ring on Mai's finger. She'd want to turn right around if that were the case, even though she couldn't. She didn't like the gloomy girl any more than Mai liked the waterbender; she knew about her boyfriend's connection with the blue-eyed girl. Smugly, Katara played with her hair, thinking of how desperate Mai had been to get Zuko away from her. It had taken endless insults and threats on the part of the pale woman, until finally, one threat that was screeched from defiant lips echoed throughout the halls of the palace in the horrors of late evening-

_"If you so much as speak to that peasant again, I'll be sure to let the entire Nation know that she has dishonored herself by trying to become the concubine of the Fire Lord and insulting her relationship with Avatar Aang."_

Katara had shuddered at the words, feeling sick and knowing that Zuko would do anything to keep her honor intact. They'd never been anything more than friends, never exchanged anything further than a hug or a side glance. But Mai read in-between the lines, and she could see the longing that danced between them that they hadn't begun to understand.

So he'd ignored her. They'd had no contact except for a single piece of mail via pigeon a handful of mornings ago, blazoned with the seal of the Fire Lord and written in a hand that she didn't recognize.

She'd been asked to be the ambassador between the two nations in a cold, emotionless letter that had no part of her old friend in it besides his signature.

They'd parted on such bad terms.

Would he be happy to see her at all? Or would the silence between them fester into an enmity that she couldn't control?

When the hem of her blue dress kissed the damp boards of the Fire Nation docks, she put her hands on her hips and held her hand over her eyes, staring up at the city in front of her. He'd been a good ruler. The city looked like it was prospering, bustling with activity. Birds hovered above her, screeching, making her tilt her eyes up towards the sky with her hand shadowing the light above her brow.

There was a small consort there to meet her, a gathering of six soldiers that saluted her respectfully when she descended from the dock. She nodded to them.

"At ease, gentlemen. There's no need for formalities." She smiled at the men, who all glanced at each other a little awkwardly before returning her grin. They all looked to be young; her age or perhaps even younger. They were new recruits; Zuko had probably scrapped the entire army and started over.

"Welcome, Lady Katara. The Fire Nation is honored to have a Master Waterbender as our ambassador." The oldest soldier's voice was stiff, a little curt, but she only clasped her hands in front of her demurely and bowed her head to him in thanks.

"As I am honored to be visiting such a great Nation." She wondered a little why Zuko wasn't here to greet her, and felt her heart lurch a little as she realized he might be _too busy for her. _

No matter. She'd do her duty and depart as swiftly as she could manage.

As she walked with the soldiers up to the palace, they pressed close to her, each trying to have a hand on her lightly.

"For protection." The oldest had said, his eyes flickering away from her ashamedly. She knew that the Fire Nation was still as unaccepting of other Nations as ever, and she allowed the soldiers to feel like they were protecting her. Her fingers rested lightly on the water pouch concealed under her light robe anyways, and she kept her gaze rooted forward. Some of the villagers stopped to taunt her, and a few went so far as to throw a vegetable or two, but no one attempted any more than that.

She was glad when none of them brought up her recent separation from the Avatar.

A few of her own people had been so bold as to call her names for his abandonment, shaming her publicly until her father had needed to intervene. Shuddering a little, she pushed the memories further into her mind, ignoring the pain she'd suffered.

Some of the civilians around her were under the impression that she was a prisoner of the Fire Nation, and they cheered on the soldiers, congratulating them on capturing a Master Waterbender.

Their grips on her tightened then, but she only pressed her lips together tightly. Her eerie calmness was a sign of the hardened maturity that had developed to a jaded weariness in recent years. Even Sokka looked at her with sad eyes, and she knew he tried to not mention his new engagement to Suki. She'd return in a few months time to help Suki prepare to enter the Southern Water Tribe, to braid shells into her hair and to help her in carving a special hunting knife for her husband-to-be. But now, all she could focus on were the cat-calls of the people around her, hearing the names they spat at her and only managing to raise her head a little higher.

In the time of war, she would have lashed out at the soldiers around her, snapping at them to give her space, to allow her the pride of defending herself. But now, she was careful.

She wasn't a child any more.

The massive doors to the throne room swung open with little difficulty, exposing the opulence of hundreds of years of intricate gold-work and etched mahogany. Large tapestries were hung about the hall, and the marble floor was shining in the light. She would have once stepped carefully, hoping that her shoes wouldn't leave marks on the white marble, but she walked with a serious purpose now. Her head was high, her back straight, and her nails were carving half-moons into the sweaty palms of her hands.

She was about to face her greatest enemy and her greatest love, the man who had challenged her to feel more hatred and more desire than anyone had ever made her feel in her life.

Katara was more powerful than when she had last been here, walking with the strength of a woman who had faced abandonment too many times and beaten the loneliness.

"Wait here." The guards left her side then. All except the youngest, who managed a weak grin at the taller woman before turning back to clasping his spear with sweaty hands. They disappeared into a side room that was barely masked by a thin, paper wall, elaborately decorated with scenes from stories that she didn't understand.

"Lady Katara is here to see you, Fire Lord." She could make out the muffled voices of the guards, and she folded her hands behind her, tilting her chin up towards the ceiling and pursing her lips. She was tempted to cock her hips to the side, to show off the curves that hadn't been there when she'd last seen the dark-haired bender, but she chose not to.

His voice in her ears almost hurt to hear, but she focused on it anyways, reveling in how much deeper it was than the last time she'd spoken to him.

The man that swept into the throne room was not the boy she had left behind. He was substantially taller and broader now, with his long, inky black hair swept into an elegant top knot. His cheekbones were much more apparent, the definition in his face attractive and becoming. She just barely stopped herself from murmuring his name.

Instead, she addressed him as formally as she could manage. She refused to bow before him, firstly, which drew a shocked gasp from the guard beside her. She only inclined her head towards her old friend once.

"Fire Lord Zuko. A pleasure." Her tone was chilly. She knew it was rude, but the waterbender couldn't help it. One of his eyebrows arched, and he moved to sit on his throne, draping his great robes around him. They were a deep shade of crimson, each delicately embroidered with golden thread and edged in black.

"Lady Katara," The way he said her name made her stomach toss.

"It's been a long time. I'm pleased to see you again." Zuko's voice rumbled in his chest, a raspy baritone that trembled in her soul. When had he gotten so damn _attractive?_

"Thank you for honoring me with the position of ambassador between our Nations, Fire Lord. I will do my best to be of service." Her tone was a low drawl, and she cocked her head at him a little, challenging him.

As an afterthought, she spoke again, her tongue flicking out to skim her chapped lower lip before she uttered a poisonous statement that would have made the chambermaids blush.

"I'm surprised you don't have your Fire Lady beside you. Unless you'd rather not rule beside a woman, and in that case, I'll assume she's your _concubine_." The word was a taunt, a mockery of the argument between him and Mai that had sent her spinning into oblivion.

Zuko's brow furrowed intensely then, his eyes stormy at the insult the girl had delivered to him. He recognized the tone, she could see it in his eyes.

"I have neither a wife nor a concubine, Lady Katara. You'll do well to refrain from such comments in my court." Her chest constricted tightly as she realized that Mai wasn't in the picture at all- she wondered, briefly, what the story was there before feeling the burn of her anger at him return.

He'd accepted her challenge. Good, he'd play along with her. The guard next to her trembled in his armor a little, and she cast him a withered glance before stepping forward.

"Five years with no contact except for this one, utterly emotionless letter." She continued, pulling his slightly crumpled invitation from her pocket and tossing it onto the floor in front of him. Her tanned arms crossed over her chest, silver arm bracelets glimmering in the lights that were lit around the hall. Zuko narrowed his eyes at her for a long moment, and she could almost smell the distinct scent of burning wood as his hand clutched the armrest of his throne.

"We didn't exactly part on wonderful terms." He answered bitterly, rising. Katara huffed once, rolling her eyes. She knew he'd put up a fight. Tossing her head, there was a jingling noise as the little shells that were braided into her hair danced together.

"You might as well have put me on Appa yourself and had me removed from your Nation." She spat, her ocean-blue eyes trembling with fury. Zuko descended the throne, standing levelly in front of her, his jaw taut with frustration. She stared for a long moment, her stomach roiling again emptily as she realized how tall he'd gotten. He stood several heads above the waterbender now, his broad shoulders emphasized with huge, golden plates that were carved into intricate patterns.

"I was convinced that you were leaving with the love of your life," The sarcasm in his voice dripped between them, saturating the air stickily. Sarcasm had always been a gift of his.

"Speaking of the world savior, how does he feel about you being ambassador?" Zuko added, and the strange emphasis he put on the word ambassador made her question her purpose for being there.

"He left me. Don't be cruel." Katara hissed, flicking her hand out to the side and gathering a globe of water in her palm. Zuko's eyes suddenly widened in shock, and the venom in his gaze faded somewhat.

"I didn't know that." The softness in his voice, unexpected, made her almost drop the ball of water onto the marble floors with shock. There was the kindness that she'd missed. There was the warmth in his eyes that had been there when she'd told him about her mother. There was her _Zuko. _

"Why-" He began, lifting his hand towards her as if he wished to skim those calloused hands across the rise and fall of her shoulders, to slip his thumbs over the sharp bones of her cheeks and somehow _try _to make up for what he'd done.

"La, Zuko, don't even ask. It's not like you really _care, _now, do you?" She snapped, the words whipped between them with edges sharper than Mai's knives and dewed with the frustration of five years of agony.

"Lady Katara, already arguing with my nephew, are you? It's so good to see you again, my dear." Iroh hovered in the doorway all of a sudden, a jovial smile curving his mouth and a tea cup resting familiarly in his hands. Ashamed, Katara tucked the water back into its pouch and crossed her hands once more as her cheeks pinked with embarrassment. Zuko stepped back, inclining his head to his Uncle once out of formality.

"Iroh, it's so good to see you." She managed a tired smile at the older man, bending forward slightly out of respect for the elder. Iroh's eyes were vanishing into the wrinkles of his face, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of pain in her chest when she realized how old he- and her Gran Gran- were getting.

"Are you quite aware of your position here, my Lady? Due to your frostiness, I'm not sure you are." Iroh stepped further into the room, glancing at his nephew with a look that made Zuko shrink back to his seat. Katara furrowed her brow, confused.

"I'm not sure what you mean." She questioned haltingly.

"I'll be sure to put on a pot of tea, then. It's quite an interesting position. And didn't I tell you to call me Uncle?" He waved to the servant near the door, who scurried off frantically. Zuko looked away sharply, his jaw jutting out in a terribly childish way, making his otherwise regal appearance somewhat ridiculous.

Those gold shoulder pads _were _a little much.

"Sorry, Uncle." Katara murmured, her head bowed demurely as he approached her and placed a weathered hand on her shoulder. The simple human touch made her relax almost at once, as if she'd forgotten what compassion felt like.

"My dear girl, the elders saw it fit to tie our two nations together in a way that had never been done before. I'm not sure if my somewhat slow nephew forgot to include this in his letter to you, or if he just was ignorant of the truth-"

"Hey!" Suddenly, Zuko was sixteen again, pouting like he had been known for doing. Katara almost wanted to splash him in the face with a little water.

Just a little.

"-but it's been decided that you'll be marrying my nephew."

In the long, awkward pause that followed, Katara's eyes locked with Zuko's as horror dropped her jaw.

Just after that, Zuko found himself completely soaked to the skin.

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_**review, my beautiful readers~ **_

_**xoxo,**_

_**nightfall26**_


	2. nighthawk

**chapter: **_nighthawk: a recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night._

**setting: **_six years after the end of the war. _

**disclaimer:**_ I own nothing. _** _  
_**

**author's notes: **_review pretty please? I think you're all really lovely.  
_

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Her fingers stirred the water of her bathtub, caressing the smooth ridges of the little waves that broke over her bare flesh. Falling in tangled tumbles around her head was her hair, half submerged in the tub and half pinned up. Katara hummed a little to herself, her toes playing with the faucet, turning it on and off as she eyed the glass of sake on the bench next to her. She'd had a full glass already, and the empty cup sat dejectedly by the sink. The clear glass was stained, the alcohol stinking up the whole bathroom, reminding the slight woman that she'd entered a world that contained much more than she'd bargained for.

In one swoop of a moment, her entire life had been defined for her. She had accepted it by the simple act of coming here today, holding out her own hands to be bound by marital chains for the rest of her existence. Katara hated being confined to limits and rules, much like her element. She strained against boundaries and ached to expand borders, stretching herself beyond the normal boxes that others committed themselves to. It disturbed her greatly that all of a sudden, she couldn't be herself any longer. She had a gypsy soul, a fiery heart, and she couldn't be tamed so easily.

After she'd so carelessly soaked the Fire Lord through to the skin, Iroh had managed to walk her to her rooms and ordered for her bags to be brought up. She'd sat on the edge of her bed for a long moment, gathering her thoughts before messily drawing herself a bath and sitting, fully clothed at first, in the warm water.

She'd since stripped herself of her dress, hours later. Iroh had checked on her once, and it was him who had brought her the cup of sake, quietly leaving it just inside her door without another word.

A knock at the door caused a shiver to spark down her spine, and she cleared her throat once before answering.

"Yes?" Her voice cracked down the center of the word, showing a weakness that she hated. Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Lady Katara, the Fire Lord has asked for your presence at dinner this evening. He requests that you be ready to dine within the half-hour." It was an unknown voice, a cold, removed tone, one that she didn't recognize. Rolling her eyes distinctively, she slapped her hand on the surface of the water once with frustration before sinking even further down into the bath.

"Tell him I don't feel like coming." She snapped back, not wanting anything to do with Zuko. She didn't want to look him in the eye at this point. Never mind the endless days she'd spent as a teenage girl fantasizing about staying in the Fire Nation, never mind the way she'd imagined him saying the words he said to Mai in _her _ear instead. She was pissed off, now, angrier than a polar bear because the very basic, human element of _choice _had been ripped from her hands.

None of this was as it should be. Ideally, she should be home, wondering when the man she'd spent the past several years of her life with would carve her an elegant engagement necklace and present it to her proudly. She should be hovering outside her father's tent as her betrothed asked for her hand in marriage; she should be readying the furs that would be cast over their marriage bed. So many things that she _should _be doing and yet never actually _would _do.

She'd never stitch careful embroidery into the leather-backed hilt of a hunting knife for her fiancee, she'd never spend hours readying herself with her grandmother for the consummation of the marriage ahead of her. She felt robbed.

Katara flicked her fingers towards the sake, bending it out the open window and into the gardens beyond. She sighed as she did so, knowing that the burn of the alcohol would only blur her mind and muddle her sharp senses. That was something she didn't want if she had to interact with her _future husband. _

She had to be armed and ready for battle if she had to stare down the Fire Lord.

"I'm afraid his invitation isn't an option, Lady Katara. He expects you down in the great hall in promptly thirty minutes." Brusquely, the feet that accompanied the voice turned and left the bedroom that was joined to the bath. Loudly, Katara groaned, tilting her head back so her entire scalp was submerged for a moment. She had to abide by rules, here, by age-old customs and traditions that meant sure death or exile if you so much as _breathed _the wrong way.

She much preferred the ancient laws she'd grown up with, the rituals and the festivals that went on long into the night. Somehow they were much less rigid that the ones Zuko had once explained to her, back when they'd been closer than two turtleducks in spring. Of course, the Water Tribe had their own catches and snares for newcomers, especially when it concerned marriage. Suki would have to undergo several trials where she'd have to prove herself worthy of entering their tribe, in both mind and body.

Katara snorted a little to herself. Obviously, she'd been seen as unworthy by her own tribe members once they'd gotten wind of Aang's desertion.

_Tainted, _they'd called her. A few men had been so bold as to solicit her for sexual favors, waiting outside of her tent with money or trinkets in hopes of gaining something from her that she'd never given any man besides Aang.

Fishing herself out of the water somewhat clumsily, Katara pulled the drain up out of the bathtub and ran her hands over her naked body with a sigh. The water collected in her hair was soon bended into the emptying tub, and she wrapped a robe around herself to step into the coolness of the bedroom beyond.

The window had been thrown open, and the curtains moved softly in the summer breeze, dancing in the dust that collected on the surface of the polished wooden floors. Katara took a moment to stare at the dress that had been laid out for her.

It was red. The entire dress was made up of a deep crimson, thicker than the rusty-tint of blood and fashioned out of a heavy crushed velvet. The neckline was scooped, meant to expose Katara's sharp collarbones in a desirable fashion. Sucking in a breath that tasted like metal, the waterbender fingered the edge of the dress almost bitterly.

"Hardly appropriate for summer," She muttered to herself, noting how the hem pooled on the floor and realizing how warm the garment would be. Wistfully, she gazed at the mound of delicate blue material she'd arrived in. There was no reason as to why she couldn't wear the blues of her people; her dress was far more comfortable, and if she was to be some form of _ambassador, _she had to represent her homeland in some way.

In some way besides the color of her skin, that was.

After she braided her hair and swept it up off her neck into a bun, she cast a devious glance at the red dress before decidedly avoiding it. There was no way she could be forced into wearing colors that she didn't like, after all, she was supposed to be a guest, not a prisoner.

As she laced up the back of her familiar dress- she'd made it herself, after all- she could smell the salt of the sea air on the fabric and felt a little better.

"Much better." Katara whispered to herself, admiring the cut of the garment for a moment. As she stared, she remembered when Iroh had brought her this material himself from the market down the road. He'd spent the better part of an afternoon looking for the perfect swatch of fabric for a dress she wanted to make for Zuko's birthday dinner five years ago, and she'd painstakingly stitched it well into the evening.

When she'd debuted it at Zuko's party the next night, Aang had fluttered around her with useless compliments about her hair and the makeup she'd rimmed her ocean-wide eyes with. But Zuko had taken the time to bow in front of her, catch her hand in his and press his lips to her knuckle before murmuring-

_"What a beautiful dress, Katara. Blue is such a lovely color on you." _

Katara snatched her eyes away from the mirror, forcing the emotions welling in her chest back down to the pit of her stomach where they belonged. She wondered, briefly, if he'd recognized the dress when she'd walked in. Had he seen the haphazard stitching and the unremarkable pattern and known all at once that it had been the first dress she'd ever made? Or had he simply regarded it as any old blue dress, just like all the others she'd owned in her lifetime?

No, she thought to herself, Zuko paid attention to detail. Somehow, he must have known. Unless his heart was completely blackened now, which Katara somewhat suspected due to the way he'd greeted her.

"Agni, there is no way you're wearing that ratty old thing to a formal dinner." Suddenly, the voice from earlier had returned in the form of a slightly stooped servant woman, wearing a starched, white apron over a matronly dress. Protectively, Katara wound her arms around herself, the soft material worn slightly from one too many rough washings.

"It's my favorite dress. I'd rather be comfortable." Katara snipped, turning her attention away from the maid and focusing on keeping her temper in check.

"It doesn't matter what you'd prefer. It matters what he wishes. You'll be announced as his betrothed in exactly two weeks, and in that time, you're to learn the ways of the Nation you have so gracelessly entered." Curling her lip none-too-subtly, the older woman patted her greying hair with wrinkled hands and gestured to the dress on the bed.

"Change. Now. Or I'll burn that _thing _you're wearing." Katara stood her ground, her little hands curling into tight fists as she stubbornly refused with a sharp shake of her head.

"You wouldn't dare." Katara hissed from between clenched teeth, her nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms with frustration. The old maid raised one of her thinly-plucked brows and pursed her lips.

"Such disrespect. You're not at all what I thought you'd be. I thought his majesty would be marrying a _lady_, but no, you're no better than a common ruffian." Eyeing Katara up and down, the older woman narrowed her eyes spitefully. The waterbender stiffened. She'd never been lady in the eyes of the Fire Nation, and it seemed like she never would be.

"You're right. I'm not a lady. I'm a warrior." Katara grabbed up her silver arm bracelets off the dresser before brushing past the maid with her shoulders back and her head held high. If she had to sit in front of the Fire Lord, she'd do so wearing what she liked. Clipping the silver arm bands on, she ran her hands through the shells that were braided into her hair and took a steadying breath as she strode down the hall.

In the past few years of her life, she'd faced too many challenges to be dictated to now. She'd learned how to wrestle bears with her brother and tackle the demons in her mind, and how to deal with the catcalls that some of the villagers made at her or the glares that the older women directed towards her.

She was stronger than a wizened old woman trying to stuff her into a heavy dress. She was proud of her Nation and her people, and she wouldn't be quieted.

The Great Hall was just as she remembered, with its high, golden ceilings and elegant tapestries. The long, mahogany tables were filled with courtiers and various Fire Nation nobles that she was sure she'd have to meet eventually. The smell of the spicy food made her nose sting, and she tried not to hold her hands over her face as she walked. Almost immediately, she missed the slow cooked sea prunes that she so prized at home.

"My Lady," Iroh materialized at her elbow, a jovial smile curving his lips as he gently wrapped her arm through his and escorted her through the hall.

"I take it that you didn't want to wear the red dress that Zuko had sent to your room." The older man patted her hand, and she nodded once, stiffly, biting the inside of her mouth.

"How could I? I can't forsake my identity for a man I feel like I don't even know anymore." The girl whispered, feeling her chest tighten as they approached the royal table.

"Just be prepared for the wrath of my nephew, my dear. He'll see it as an insult because the nobles around him will see you as an outsider." Iroh whispered to her, relinquishing her hand so he could pull her chair out for her at the table. Katara took a deep breath at the sound of his words.

_Great. This should be fun._

She was seated at the right hand of the Fire Lord, with Iroh across from her. He nodded to her, once, his smile vanishing as the Fire Lord coughed once under his breath. Several of the ladies surrounding Katara all eyed her with poisonous glances, and a particularly fat nobleman covered his mouth with his hand and looked the waterbender over disgustedly.

"Pardon me, but what is that garment that you're wearing? Is it the latest fashion from the uncivilized tribes you come from?" One of the girls tittered, waving her hand at Katara with a giggle. Katara arched one eyebrow, her back straightening as she jutted her chin out.

"In my nation, we don't pay attention to fashion. We dress according to whatever is most practical." Doing her level best to speak respectfully, Katara tucked her napkin into her lap as Iroh had once instructed her, many years ago. The other girl, who had her hair tied with a string of pearls, snorted a little into her water glass.

"I'd hardly call that a _dress_. It looks like a blue potato sack." The comment was rude, and it stung, making Katara raise herself even further until she was sitting at her full height. She'd grown quite a bit in the past few years, and she stared down at the pompous courtier with a disdainful expression.

"Yours looks like you rolled around in the back of a butcher shop." Katara snapped, before turning to face the food that was being placed in front of her. Iroh chuckled a little to himself at the comment, but Zuko looked unamused. In fact, he looked pissed. _Very _pissed.

A few awkward moments passed, and Katara felt herself easing a little. One nasty comment from a stuck-up noble couldn't sway her from wearing the blue tint of her nation. She was a waterbending master, she could wear blue at an otherwise red-stained Fire Nation dinner if she wanted. Everyone else looked like they'd slaughtered something and drenched their clothes with the aftermath.

"I do say, Fire Lord, it is such a pity that your advisors saw it fit to engage you to a common peasant." A woman with raven-black hair wound into intricate curls seated by Iroh commented lowly, flicking her golden fan and waving herself with it hastily. Katara flushed, looking down at her plate as shame colored her. This insult was unexpected, and she felt her heart sink into her stomach. Wanting to reply with a snarky answer, she gathered her napkin into her sweaty palms and thought for a long moment about what to snap back.

She half-expected Zuko to agree with the strange woman and call her out for her stubbornness, but instead, her once-good-friend cleared his throat noisily.

"With all due respect, my lady, I find it enormously offensive that you would insult my betrothed in such a manner. Not only is the Lady Katara a fierce warrior and waterbending master, but she's a princess of her country, as well. I suggest you hold your tongue when speaking on manners you don't understand."

Katara felt her heart sing in that moment, raising her eyes to look at the golden-eyed man who had defended her so eloquently. He delivered a narrow-eyed glare to her, and she winced a little, her hands clasped in her lap. She ate the rest of her meal in silence and managed to get through at least half of the courses before her water glass was empty.

Spices never did agree with her. Once the last course had been cleared away, the Fire Lord rose, flicking his robes behind him as he moved away from the table.

"Lady Katara, may I speak with you in my chambers?" He said quietly, the storm in his face clouding over his yellow-predator eyes. Katara knotted her hands in the fabric of her napkin before she stood, nodding once.

"I thank you all for the delight of your company. If you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to." Zuko said formally, his tone stiff as he bowed once to the company of courtiers in the hall. Sweeping off into one of the side halls, Katara followed, her hands clasped and her heart thundering in her chest like she was being sent to discipline after misbehaving.

"Oh I'm sure he has _matters _to attend to. I doubt he really intends on marrying that whelp, she's probably more of a concubine than anything else."

"_Matters, _indeed."

As the last comment she heard thrummed in her reddening ears, the waterbender kept herself a few paces behind the Fire Lord. She wasn't ashamed of her behavior, certainly, she'd done nothing wrong, but she couldn't help but feel like in some way, she'd disappointed him.

But it was _his _people that had insulted her, and _his _Nation that couldn't accept her. In what way was that her fault?

When she entered his study, he tossed his heavy robe to the side, exposing some very ordinary looking red trousers and a plain, white loose shirt underneath. For a moment, Katara could see her old friend in him again. Sighing heavily, he all but collapsed into the leather chair seated by the fireplace, rubbing his hand across his face.

"Shut the door behind you." His voice snapped like a whip across the great expanse between them, and Katara did as he asked, moving soundlessly into the room. Her blood was boiling as she did so, thinking of the horrible things that had been said about her that night.

"Zuko, really-" She began, approaching him.

"How hard is it to wear a damn dress, Katara?" His eyes were boiling, molten gold that reflected her own wide eyes and flushed cheeks back at her. Somehow, strangely, she found his enmity attractive, noticing how his hair was slipping just a little out of his top knot and how his jaw was angled just right so that the sunlight cast a brightness across his features.

"How _dare_ you pull a stunt like this tonight? Yeah, I get it, you're mad as hell at me and you want to get me back. Fine. Be angry at me. But for Agni's sake, follow the damn rules. You humiliated yourself tonight, not to mention embarrassed me, and so now everything is going to be ten times harder because of your stubbornness." Zuko's voice was harsher than she remembered, grating like metal on a chalkboard as he pushed himself out of his chair and rounded on her. She gathered herself for a moment, hating that he was blaming her and wanting to defend herself.

"You can't entirely blame me, Zuko, they said such awful-"

"I _asked _you to wear red. You deliberately disobeyed me and came downstairs in a dress that offended nearly everyone in that room."

"It's not my fault that your nation can't accept people that are different than them!" She hissed, angry tears springing to her eyes as she took another few steps towards her once-friend. Zuko threw his hands up into the air in exasperation.

"If I were in your home, Katara, I would wear blue and furs and try to get along with your family because that's just common courtesy. You stomp in here, insult me, refuse to be even the slightest bit respectful of our traditions, and utterly humiliated yourself. Are you proud?" The Fire Lord spat, and the fireplace suddenly roared to life. Katara sprung back from the sudden heatwave, her hands instinctively shielding her face from the unwelcome warmth. There had been too many accidents with fire in her life, it was a gut-wrenching reaction to leap away from the element that she had so long despised.

For a moment, she felt her old, familiar coolness rise in the pit of her stomach, the gentleness in her heart welling up and choking her as she stared at the boy who had been forced to become a man. The ragged edges of his scar were hidden from her as he faced the fireplace, not meeting her eyes.

She _felt _him then, as she had so many thousands of times before. She could hear the thunder of his heartbeat, could feel the warmth of his skin. She knew his pain like her own, and somehow, she could recognize that he was struggling, too.

"Zuko, what happened to us?" The words were but a whisper in the breeze between them, but they were enough. A shudder jolted through the man across the room from her, and he glanced up, locking gazes with the waterbender for an instant that felt too long.

"Look, Katara. I get it. I know you don't want to be here with me, and I'm sure that you would love nothing more than to get back home. If I can, I'll talk them out of this treaty." Zuko said roughly, a callousness about him that made Katara sink back into an injured fury. Her self-esteem singed somewhat, she bit down hard on her lower lip, her chest pulsing with the same hurt she'd felt when he'd chosen Mai's love over hers- plutonic or not.

The demons in her mind roared to life then, twisting deep in her stomach and taking shape in the form of hateful words.

"Am I not enough for you, Fire Lord Zuko? Am I lacking, somehow? I always knew I wasn't good enough for you, Mai threw it in my face every day." Katara spat the words like poison on the ground, throwing her arms to her sides in a violent show of the injury that had been done to her long ago. Zuko flinched, his shoulders curling inward.

"You've always been more than enough," He said softly, once again, avoiding her gaze.

"Mai's been gone for a few years now, Katara, you can let everything she ever said to you go. She won't be coming back." Zuko snipped, his gaze stormy as he sat back down in his chair. The lights in the room dimmed somewhat, and there was a defeat in his stance that Katara hadn't seen in some time.

"Leave." The singular word crackled between them, and Zuko dropped his head into his hands after he said it. Katara hesitated, wanting to go to him like she had so many times before, wanting to take his hands in her own and cradle his cheek in her palm and promise him that things would be alright.

But she wanted to slap him, too. She wanted to scream at him until her lungs were sore and throw ice spears at him that would leave the slightest of delicate cuts on the surface of his porcelain skin, crosshatching thin red lines like they'd been painted on. She was so angry at him, so frustrated at the position they'd been thrust into, but her passion was roiling deep within her in a way that had once been tangled into a deep affection.

Now, she hardly knew the difference between hate and love. Now, she was as broken inside as an old war hero, screaming at the nightmares that kept her awake every night and keeping men far from her bedchambers because of the fear she had of them.

She'd been so desperately afraid after Aang had left her that she'd iced over her doors and windows every night to be sure that no one could break in.

"I said get out, Katara. You've done enough damage for today." The Fire Lord growled lowly, the guttural sound of his voice making her turn and leave with an anxiousness to her walk.

Her bedroom was empty and cold tonight, the open window allowing a chilly breeze to streak across the room. Goosebumps rose along her skin as she let the silken drapes of her bed skim through her fingers, catching slightly on the callouses on her fingertips and palms. The still of the night had calmed her anger, somewhat, taken her mind to places it hadn't wandered in years.

Was she not enough for any man, then, as she hadn't been enough for even Aang?

The waterbender stripped in the center of the room slowly, tucking the blue dress that had caused such a disaster under her mattress to conceal it. Pulling on a cotton shift to sleep in, she gathered her sheets around her and sighed into her pillow.

"I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you, Aang." She murmured, her words drifting off into the calm of the evening to sit amongst the stars. Tears wavered in her eyes, a weakness that she didn't allow herself often, and the corners of her eyes dewed with the hurt that she'd kept bottled up all day.

She could still remember the hollowness in Aang's eyes before he left, the emptiness in the endless grey, the soft charcoal that had once harbored so much safety for her.

_"I guess that there's no use to pursuing a relationship, then, is there?" _

"I guess not." She echoed, answering a question that had been asked months ago in the solitude of her chambers.

"I guess not..."

* * *

**_I've just finished my sophomore year of college, so I'll be updating much more frequently!_**

**_I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter ~review, my loves, please & thank you~ _**

**_xoxo,_**

**_nightfall26_**


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